


Stop A While

by Rainah (RainahFiclets)



Series: Lonely 'verse [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, Prostitution, sex work slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:42:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8273257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainahFiclets/pseuds/Rainah
Summary: They’ve been living together for a few months now, long enough for Alex to buy a second bed and start charging Pierre rent but not quite long enough to know the boy well. They’re still feeling each other out, getting a sense of their actions and reactions.
  What Alex is saying is, he wasn’t paying attention. Didn’t know enough to know he had to be.  He didn’t know it was a problem until it was too late. Pierre gets in over his head. Thankfully, Alex knows how to handle it





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaekakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaekakes/gifts).



> So I started taking prompts for my fic, [Lonely Just Like Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7818367/chapters/17843866). This will not make sense if you haven't read it, but - Alex is a 25 year old street level sex worker. Pierre is his 17 year old roommate whom he's basically adopted (And is also a sex worker).
> 
> Prompt One: Alex + Pierre H/C. Pierre gets in over his head and Alex has to rescue him.  
> (Fic contains the threat of sexualized violence)

The problem is, Pierre doesn’t like to be touched. Which is fine, Alex isn’t particularly interested in cuddling a petulant teenager, but it’s not exactly an asset in the job the boy works.

He suspects it’s some kind of independence thing. Pierre is as stubborn as every other 17 year old Alex has ever met, and part of that stubbornness is his insistence that he’s an _adult_ now. He doesn’t need Alex to screen his clients, he doesn’t need Alex to check up on him.

(He does, however, want Alex to continue making him food and picking up the crap he leaves in the apartment. Pierre is a teenager through and through.)

They’ve been living together for a few months now, long enough for Alex to buy a second bed and start charging Pierre rent but not quite long enough to know the boy well. They’re still feeling each other out, getting a sense of actions and reactions.

What Alex is saying is, he wasn’t paying attention. Didn’t know enough to know he had to be.

He didn’t know it was a problem until it was too late.

They’re at one of his usual spots, a corner with a burned out street lamp. Business as usual for a Sunday night.

He sees a car pull up, sees Pierre approach it. Figures. They always go for the young and pretty ones. As Alex turns away to survey the road up ahead, he can’t help but consider leaving Pierre here and moving a few blocks upstreet. The kid is adamant he can handle himself and it’s better if they’re both making money.

His back is turned. He doesn’t see Pierre jerk away from the car. He doesn’t hear the words, only registers the fact that they’re laughing harshly at whatever Pierre’s saying. A voice shouts something, Pierre says something else. It’s background noise.

There’s no sign of trouble until he realizes that whoever it is is _still laughing_. That means they’re still here. Pierre hasn’t gone with them. 

He turns.

Pierre is standing several feet away from the car, arms wrapped around his waist. He’s just out of reach of the man that’s leaning out the window to shout at him.

“Don’t be a stupid whore, get in the car.”

Alex’s eyes narrow. He’s leaning out the _passenger_ side window. That means only one thing: multiple people in the car.

Suddenly he understands why Pierre looks so scared.

Alex squares his shoulders, pulling the tie from his hair and fluffing it before stepping pointedly in front of Pierre. “Is there a problem?” He asks, trying to see clearly in the darkness of the car. Three shapes, not good.

“What are you, his pimp?” The first man spits out. “Tell him to get in the car. I gave him the money, I want a whore.”

“He doesn’t do multiples.” Alex explains cautiously. “As I’m sure he told you.” He lets the pimp comment slide; if that’s what they think, all the better.

The man curses. “Screw that! We already paid him! He’s got to suck us now!”

Alex looks over, and sure enough Pierre’s got several bills clutched in his hand. He doesn’t even seem to be aware that he’s holding them. But with a careful nudge from Alex he shuffles forward, reading out to hand over the money.

It happens fast. One moment they’re all tense, Pierre relinquishing the bills and starting to draw back. In the next, a pale white hand has clamped down around his arm, pulling sharply enough that Pierre collides with the car door. Another hand comes up to close around his neck.

“Hey now!” Alex says sharply, stepping forward. He’s got a knife in his bag, but it’s all the way over by the lamp post. No, he’s got to do this barehanded. “Let him go. He says he doesn’t do that.”

“And if we say he does?” The voice in the car asks. Pierre has gone pale, hands clenching like he wants to grab the arm around his neck but is afraid to.

Alex locks eyes with him, trying to communicate _it’s ok_ even as he steps back and gets ready to sprint. “Then I’ve heard you acknowledge that, violate his consent, and kidnap my underage friend. Which is multiple felonies. And I’ve seen your license plate.” He doesn’t want to run for a cop, but he’ll spend a night in jail if it means no one is getting murdered. He gets ready to run.

There’s a long pause. Finally, one of the voices in the car pipes up with “Let him go, Brad, this isn’t funny anymore.”

“Yeah.” Says the driver. “Let’s find some better skanks, ones we don’t have to pay.”

“Fine.” The man snarls, and gives Pierre a shove. He falls hard onto his knees, gasping, as the car peels away from the curb and goes screeching into the night. Alex is at his side in an instant, careful not to touch.

“Did they hurt you?”

“M’fine.” Pierre gasps out, when he’s cut off by a hysterical sob. “They were gonna… they were…”

“I know.” Cars with multiple customers were a good way to get murdered. “Let's get you home, you’re done for the night.” He half guides, half drags Pierre back to their apartment, kicking open the door and depositing him on the couch. He starts heating up water for tea as Pierre wraps a blanket around himself. The sobbing’s ruined his mascara.

Alex hands him the tea. “There you go. It’s fine. Take the night off.” He doesn’t know what else to offer the boy. It’s rough, but this is the reality they live in. And Alex isn’t always going to be there.

He stands, brushing off his pants with the full intent of heading back out - there’s rent to be paid, after all, especially if Pierre is taking the night off - when the look in Pierre’s eyes stops him.

“Alex?” Pierre asks, very quietly. 

“Hm?”

“Can I have a hug?”

 _Of course you can._ He doesn’t say that, just sits down on the couch and pulls the kid into his arms. Holding him like this, Alex is reminded of how very _young_ Pierre is. Seventeen, just past his growth spurt, all spindly limbs. He’s taller than Alex but almost certainly lighter, his wrist bones look thin enough that a strong wind could snap them. Or a nasty john showing off to his friends. Alex shivers.

Pierre melts into the hug, a little awkwardly at first, but ends up with Alex’s arm around him and his head on Alex’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he says, so quiet Alex can barely hear it. 

Alex smiles. “You know,” he says slowly, “I think I know someone you should meet? Very wealthy, some distant European nobility. German I think. Has the most pretentious name I have _ever_ heard, and that includes all the strippers I know. Are you ready?” He can feel Pierre smile, head buried in his shoulder.

“I don’t think I am.”

“You better get ready. Here it is. Freidrich Von Stuben.” 

Pierre giggles. “He sounds ridiculous.”

“He is,” Alex allows. “But he’ll respect you, and he won’t cheat you. He’d be a great guy if his type wasn’t set firmly to ‘jailbait’.”

“Well. I am jailbait. In multiple ways.” Oh yes, as an underage male sex worker there were all kinds of ways Pierre could screw his clients. Including the preferred way. Alex laughs.

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

Alex doesn’t go out again that night. It means working longer another night, and harder, but it’s worth it for this. To have some breakthrough with the kid he’s found himself, against his will, starting to care for.

**Author's Note:**

> Have something to prompt? You can find me [on tumblr](thellamaduo.tumblr.com)  
> Like the fic? Kudos/comments help me write more


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